


Icarus Rises

by ladywinter



Series: Legends of the Fox-wife [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-26
Updated: 2011-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 02:18:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladywinter/pseuds/ladywinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kakashi/Naruto in Ancient Greece via Athenian pederasty (ie. the eromenos/erastes relationship).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Icarus Rises

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and am not making money off this.
> 
> AN: Set in Ancient Greece. Might make more sense if you're aware of Athenian pederasty (the practice of having older lovers, 'erastes', court male teens, 'eromenos'). Thanks to Fallen-chan for the prompt!
> 
> Warning: KakaNaru, M/M/F, EXPLICIT SEX, mostly older Naruto. Sparse use of Japanese names in an inappropriate culture. ::wry:: Apologies! I couldn't figure out a way around it, and the lack of names got too confusing. And I couldn't figure out a workable equivalent in Greek. x.X;;

The blond comes to him at night, and he pulls him in from the window and shuts it tight.

"You shouldn't keep coming here," he says, pressing his face into the crook of that tanned neck, "You're already an adult."

The young man who used to be his eromenos just buries himself deeper into his embrace and chuckles, "I don't see you letting me go."

"How can I?" He mouthes silently into the blond's skin. The young man hums in delight and starts sneaking his fingers into cloth ties and stripping him of his robes. He tries again, speaking out loud, "You've hit your maturity, you should be getting a wife. Children."

"There are many things I 'should be doing'." The orphan had mentioned to him before with bitterness the things expected of him (from his 'barbarian' mother's lineage) and from him (because he was family-less and 'unprotected' and- _you should let me pay for that, lovely_.)

It'd made the silver-haired commander rage when he'd found out, because whoever that was had essentially been trying to strip the boy of his citizenship, since free men do not sell themselves and to sell oneself was to revoke one own's rights. But he'd only found out after the blond had securely become his eromenos and the teen had swayed his hand, saying it was in the past and no harm was done as he hadn't been weak enough to give in.

That brightness of soul, that forgiveness, always humbles him. Athens needs it, on her Council.

"You want to be Strategos like your father," he reminds the young man.

"And I'll be one no matter what they think of me."

They're skin to skin now, and the commander knows he wouldn't be able to think if they'd kept touching so he yanks the blanket up and around and wraps the blond up tight in it. "Why won't you listen," he murmurs into that hair, trying to keep him still. "It matters that they don't think you weak. Men don't cling to their erastes."

"If they think me weak then they won't guard against me," he counters, "Gah, you fought so hard for me and now you're trying to push me away?"

Naruto had been one of the most sought after youths of his generation, and though not as hotly contested as his dark-haired yearmate, the competition for him was still fierce. The silver-haired man originally returned to Athens from the Macedonian front when he'd heard that the son of his own erastes was starting to be pursued. He'd planned to play the role of pedagogos, guarding him against unwanted advances, since the boy's deceased father could not assign him one. But then he'd laid eyes on the blond.

Thinking back, he'd probably engaged in more personal confrontations during that time than he'd ever had over a similar period on the battlefield, and had found himself fending away men from the boy's window and front stoop, claiming them as his own.

"Here again?" the boy had teased him.

"Your threshold is comfortable," he'd excused himself, drooping.

"Liar," and the blond had tried to duck and peer into the hood of his robe, but he just turned away. He'd promised himself not use his name to bargain, promised himself not use his status to bend him, but it'd made Naruto huff, and ask petulantly, "Why won't you let me know who you are?"

"You already know who I am," Kakashi had replied, cheerfully, hand at that tanned cheek. "I am the man who has claimed the right of your stoop. The one who has attempted and failed to write you poetry that 'you didn't want anyway', whom you have kissed in the dark when I told you I believed in you, and who even still believes that you could be Strategos. The one whom you've told that _*that*_ was better than any poem." And Kakashi had reached down and palmed the teen's cock, "I am the one who has touched you here more than any other and I know the feel of you almost better than my own."

The blond's eyes had widened and darkened, his breathing quick.

"Do you know that when you leave me, I let myself smell my fingers? That I lick them to try and catch a taste?"

The boy had groaned, and leaned into him more, and he'd tilted his head to further duck his face into his hood's deep shadows.

"Would you let me teach you your body? Even not having seen me?" he'd murmured, "Would you call me your erastes?"

" _Yes_ ," the blond had finally conceded and embraced him and pressed his face blindly into the shadows, seeking his mouth; he'd met him halfway, letting his hood tilt back, finally in the sunlight. Those blue eyes didn't even bother to open, for the longest time, and when they did, they'd looked at him astonished. He'd half-expected to find himself dropped from those arms and bowed at, but instead the teen had only said, "It's not like you're deformed. I thought you had fish lips or something."

"Fish lips." He'd stated, eyes half-lidded in mild disquiet.

"Yes, Commander," the blond acknowledged, irreverent, sing-songed, "Fish lips, maybe an ugly mole, or a big nose."

And when he'd tackled his new eromenos into a tree, the boy had only laughed like Eos at morning.

"You would refuse me tonight?" the boy, grown into a young man strong, asks now. "Tonight of all nights?" His head is bowed.

It's been ten years, exactly.

"Promise me you'll take a wife," he only replies, hands stroking against those cheeks.

"I—"

"Please, _promise_ me." He catches at that sweet mouth gently, beseeching.

"I-I promise," tears out of the man, whose promises were god-crafted, and there is wetness at his eyes and desperation in his kiss. He only tips Naruto onto his bed, tangles the young man into his limbs instead of the sheets, and tries to make it a night worth remembering, because the blond will speed like Helios into the day.

He does not stay long enough to watch his eromenos seek the bed of another. Macedonia called.

* * *

The arrow, when it hit, felt like nothing.

The poison, when it hit, felt like the hand of the fates.

He smiled into it.

* * *

There is the sense of movement, of travelling in the darkness, and he is concerned because he does not have the gold to pay the toll. It is cold.

Cold. He misses his sun, even though he gave him up for better things. He wonders if that would be enough to grant him Elysium.

There is a cup at his mouth and he is about to drink it when he remembers, and tries to push it away. He does not wish to drink of Lethe; he would keep his memories, they are all he has. He tries to say so.

 _It's not Lethe,_ a woman's voice replies.

They would grant him to drink from Styx? He is astonished that he's offered immortality, but he shakes his head; the price was to sip from the river of hate, and he cannot hate his eromenos. _Used_ to be, he reminds himself. Who _used_ to be, his. But not anymore.

 _You call it Archeron,_ a warm hand lifts his head. _Drink._

Ah, that he could do.

He is used to drinking of pain.

* * *

"I think he's waking up."

A face of sunshine and happiness pops into view, and he is astonished.

"You _died_?"

The blond snorted, " _*You*_ didn't."

"Oh." He croaks. He does not know quite what to say, he realizes he feels a little sore from stillness, a little weak from hunger, but remarkably alive.

"Water?"

He looks over and a pretty, young woman was there; by the color of her hair, a northerner, though odd because in the afternoon light the red looked pink. Probably a slave, he thinks, and nods. She brings forward a cup.

"She was the one who healed you up," the blond says joyful, "They brought you back expecting you to die but she'd whipped up these herbs that no one knew about and leeched the poison right out. None of _their_ medics could do it."

The commander hummed while sipping some more, water had never tasted so wonderful.

"Maybe now those Councilmen will believe me," Naruto grins, "When I say my wife is—"

He spits out his water, " _You married a barbari—_ "

There is a knife at his throat. "Are you going to make something of it?" She hissed, fiery.

Kakashi eyes her, dismissively, "The _Council_ would make something of his marrying a Celt." Quietly, "They already grief him for his mother."

"Oh." The blade lowers. Then she tosses her head and says determinedly, fiercely, "The Council don't know the antidotes that I do." The threat in that statement shouted, _they don't know my poisons, either._

He could only look at her vaguely impressed, this was no wilting flower from Athen's noble quarter. If anything she'd struck him as Spartan, coltish and strong. It was most probably a good choice for wife, to beget strong children, though a nightmare politically. Thinking of the poisons however, perhaps she might be a nightmare right back.

His blond smirks, "She's beautiful, angry, isn't she?" And hauls her in to sit on his his lap, chuckling at her reaching to smack at his shoulder. "It's good that you told me to marry."

And he aches, watching them together, but he can't look away. They're lovely like that, her arching her neck back and him catching at her mouth and Kakashi feels a bit warm as they grew heated, even as he felt cold, also.

But he remembers what he now knows is her voice when she asks him to drink of pain. So he keeps watching even as the blond brushed her chiton away from her breasts and as she shoved up the bottom of her- of her _husband's_ own. He watches a pink nipple peek from between tanned fingers, as it gripped and rubbed like it belonged there. He watches as his young man pushes into her, which he knows even though cloth obscures their joining because of the way the both of them groan. His throat is very dry.

His heart is very sore.

"You're wrong. This must be Tartarus," he murmurs, resigned.

Blue eyes dart up with surprise, then gentles, and the blond pushes the drape of cloth aside to reveal how he's in her, wet, and that same tanned hand grips her thigh and lifts it away, and says to him, "I'd thought you'd join in."

"...join?"He blinks and darts his gaze at hers, but green eyes were smiling too, with welcome.

"There's room with us," she says full of warmth.

"I'm married," Naruto points out, when he opens his mouth to protest, "Like a proper citizen."

And then she slips her fingers down, then up inside her, fingering her husband's hardness and Naruto squeaks as she strokes.

"There's room," she repeats, wildly wicked, "And you're _late_."

And he breaks with a gasp, lunges forward to taste them, to tongue at the blond's cock where it disappears into her and at her fingers still up in herself. Their paired whimpers are delicious, too; he holds up her other thigh to give himself more room and greets his blond's sack with a playful lick.

"You weren't kidding," she gasps out and takes her fingers out to brace herself. His young man moans in agreement and slowly thrusts.

"Oh?" he asks as he mouthes at Naruto's hardness as it slides out, then laps at the nub of her when it was all in; they are all but sobbing from it.

"He bet me," she says, in between her breaths, "That you— you'd be irresistible. That I'd find you to be—" The end of the sentence is a shriek as he moved his fingers, of the hand not holding her thigh, up into her and next to Naruto, and hummed gently, licking quickly, at where she'd wailed the loudest. She comes with that shriek, fluttering against his fingers, pressing them tighter against the blond's cock.

"Nngh," the young man grunts, and clutches madly at the base of himself.

Kakashi disengages gently and scoots himself upright. He reaches over the northerner's shoulder to that scarred cheek, to feel his face twist, and is given a kiss into his palm.

"What did you win?" The young man's wife looks too pleasured to answer, herself, yet.

"The fact that you will be the first in her ass."

He collapses against them both with a groan and he feels his eromenos run fingers through his hair. "You're giving me her First," Kakashi asks.

"You're good in there," he hears the grin, "I should know."

"But _later_ ," she interrupts, her breath finally caught again, tugs him even closer still and lines their cocks together. She pauses as she raises herself up, "If either of you moves suddenly I'm going to punch the _both_ of you in the windpipe."

"So uncivilized," he mutters and clutches at Naruto's hand as she slipped down over them.

"That means he likes you," the blond pants to his wife conspiratorially, squeezes his hand meaningfully, and they thrust into her carefully, partnered, when she bottomed out. And it was _exquisite_ , her wet silken tightness and his familiar heat.

He'd given himself over to the Moirae when the fever hit. Atropos had wielded her abhorred shears around him far too often, his family, his comrades, his own dear erastes, and he'd been surprised that she'd waited that long.

But apparently The Weaver is not done with him yet. There is no other explanation for why he's still breathing. The arrow should have been fatal but a bird taking flight startled him. The poison should have killed him, but his eromenos married a Celt who was a healer. The travel back to Athens alone should have finished him off, but here he is, slid up tight next to his beloved, and _alive_.

Naruto's groans are muffled into her shoulder, and curses slip, dirty, from her mouth, and Kakashi's fighting from coming with all his will, and if this—

If _this_ is where the gods will him to be, thrusting up into this fiery beauty twined with the one who pierces his heart, if the gods so strongly wills him to embrace the one who is like the sun, well, he will bow to their wishes, then, gladly.

He will pay for it later, like Icarus; or... perhaps he'll learn how to swim.

* * *

end.

  


* * *

AN: That was super great fun. XD And I loved the irony of Kakashi trying to refuse Naruto 'cause Naruto was too _old._ And I hope that people weren't too turned off by the Sakura, and that despite the relative namelessness that everyone made sense? o.0; The idea of attempting to make their names Greek hurt my head. But Japanese names in a Greek setting hurt my head too, so I tried to use them as sparingly as possible.

The following is what I've managed to understand of ancient greek culture through liberal use of wikipedia. I MAY BE WRONG; and if so take it as this particular fic's AU. Also I'd realized in hindsight how much I adored greek myths and slipped in references that people may not get AT ALL, so I added in notes on those.

 **Athenian pederasty -** the practice of having older lovers, 'erastes', court male teens, 'eromenos', really I would recommend a quick browse at it's entry in wikipeadia, it's kinda interesting

 **citizenship -** a statesman at one point was actually stripped of his status due to the fact that he sold his body when he was younger, there were apparently some surviving court documents that included arguments against him

 **Athenian government -** democratic insomuch as it were if you weren't a slave or female. There were 10 **Strategos** which were basically like generals that were also statesmen and they were pretty much the highest ranking people of their city-state in both military and government, which were tied pretty closely together.

 **erastes and eromenos relationship past maturity -** roughly, once you become an adult it's expected that you don't sleep with your erastes anymore, 'cause that would put one on a level with slaves or women. There's expected a life-long friendship however; though sometimes the parting is bitter and they hate each other.

 **Macedonia -** where the Greek city-states mostly adopted democracy, provided you were male and greek, Macedonia was royalty-based with serfdoms and everything, and expanding rapidly. Basically, "You're a creeping stain on the Free World!" ::cough:: The irony is delicious, I know. This is roughly the time of Philip, a titch before Alexander the Great hit the scene.

 **pedagogos -** slaves hired to guard rich men's son's from being forced. Granted, apparently part of the courtship included a lot of hands on cocks... according to the vases, if they're to be taken literally, potential eromenos were greeted with one hand to the cheek and another on the penis.

 **Celts -** Roughly a decade or so before this fic was when Rome was sacked by the Gauls, and the Celts came down too and sorta joined the party here and there. Everyone likes a free lunch. .;

 **Lethe -** a river of the Underworld. Forgetfulness. Drunk before one is rebirthed.

 **Styx -** a river of the Underworld. Hate. Immortality. Apparently Achilles was dipped in this by his mother, except for his heel which was where she was holding him.

 **Archeron -** a river of the Underworld. Pain.

 **Tartarus -** essentially grecian version of Hell.

 **Moirae -** the three fates Clothos (the spinner), **Lachesis** (the weaver/measurer), **Atropos** (the cutter/shearer)

 **Icarus -** his inventor dad created wings to bust them out of prison. He was warned not to fly into the sun, but he did it anyways, causing his wings to melt, and so he drowned when he fell into the sea. Supposedly was based on when a king/noble escaped imprisonment and his son fell off their boat.


End file.
